


100 Kinks of Darkpilot, #13 -- Wake Up In The Middle of the Night and Have Sex (And Then Go Back To Sleep)

by idrilhadhafang



Series: 100 Kinks of Darkpilot [13]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Comfort Sex, Dreams and Nightmares, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Smut and Angst, Survivor Guilt, smut and hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: In which Ben needs some extra comfort from Poe after a nightmare.





	100 Kinks of Darkpilot, #13 -- Wake Up In The Middle of the Night and Have Sex (And Then Go Back To Sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry for another angsty installment; let's say I got back from a rather heavy-duty therapy session and am dealing with some difficult emotions. I'll need to write something fluffy or just old-fashioned smut at one point.

Sometimes after nightmares like this, about Lisaris and Thomas, Ben needed his share of roughness. His share of pain. Other times, he needed his share of tenderness, of gentleness as well. In this case, after Ben woke up from a nightmare about Thomas condemning him for not saving him, when Poe asked him what he wanted, he said, “Don’t make it hurt tonight. Go gentle on me.”

Poe nodded. “Good. Because I don’t think I can hurt you right now.”

Poe was gentle all the while as he removed Ben’s pajamas, as he laid kisses to Ben’s neck, to his shoulders, to his chest. Sometimes Ben wanted to make it hurt. To have himself kriffed so roughly that it would take a team to put him back together. But right now, he just needed Poe’s closeness, Poe’s touch. He needed the feeling of Poe’s lips caressing his skin, the feeling of fingers caressing his face and Poe whispering to him that everything was all right, that he loved Ben.

“You’re safe,” Poe whispered to him. “I’ve got you, Ben. You’re all right. I love you.”

And Ben could believe it. Even as Poe prepared him so tenderly and kissed him so lightly, placing kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, Ben could believe it. He was with Poe. He was safe. Poe loved him, cared for him. Ben moaned even as Poe’s fingers prepared him, opened him, even as they withdrew only to be replaced with Poe’s shaft filling him up.

“You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me. I love you, Ben.” And those words were enough to soothe Ben, make him feel as if there was a balm being applied to the wounds that he had been dealt. Like an antidote to every nightmare that said that he was inherently worthless. Whatever they whispered in his ear, Poe gave him the truth.

“I love you,” Ben said, all but stammering the words.

Poe’s thrusts were gentle, slow, and it was less of a focus on whatever pain Ben needed to feel and more of a focus on gentleness, on tenderness. The kisses that Poe placed to his shoulders and neck, the reassurances and gentle words whispered into Ben’s ear. Even when Poe’s thrusts grew shorter, more urgent, he tried to hold back. At least before he spilled fully into Ben, his name tender on Poe’s lips, before Ben followed not long after, Poe’s name on his lips, and they both collapsed on the bed.

“Feeling okay?” Poe said.

“I will.”

Ben could only hope, at least, even as he drifted off to sleep in Poe’s arms. 


End file.
